


The Beginning of the Start: Years 1-5

by yourestuckinmyhead



Series: The Energy of the Universe is Constant (things are always going to change.) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts, I swear a lot so if that offends you I'm sorry, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 01:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5187587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourestuckinmyhead/pseuds/yourestuckinmyhead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People are preoccupied destiny. They spend precious years of their lives sitting on their asses thinking about what was meant to be, what the future held for them. </p>
<p>Everyone James ever met had told him, “You know James, The Marauders, you guys were destiny.”</p>
<p>But everyone who ever knew him would say, “They told fate to fuck off and then did whatever they wanted. They thought that the only way to have a future was to reach out and take it.” </p>
<p>And, honestly, that’s exactly what happened. Just ask Sirius.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of the Start: Years 1-5

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shit. But boy would I love to. 
> 
> Possible rating increase in the future, because things might happen.

* * *

 

 

People are preoccupied destiny. They spend precious years of their lives sitting on their asses thinking about what was meant to be, what the future held for them.

 

Everyone James ever met had told him, “You know James, The Marauders, you guys were destiny.”

 

But everyone who ever knew him would say, “They told fate to fuck off and then did whatever they wanted. They thought that the only way to have a future was to reach out and take it.”

 

And, honestly, that’s exactly what happened. Just ask Sirius.

 

* * *

 

James is a collector; he has shelves upon shelves in his room devoted to his rock collection, his walls are covered with every single letter ever sent to him, and in the drawer next to his bed he keeps his chocolate frog cards. The kind of stuff an eleven year old finds invaluable, because he is you know, eleven.

 

Not that James was the kind of boy to let age stop him; with no other children around he spent most of his youth with adults and this lead him onto a path of false hopes of authority. James, only eight, had taken after stealing cups of coffee to go along with his morning paper, (his mom always switched it with hot chocolate) and James would complain about high taxes and the new bill parliament was trying to pass.

 

Which is to say he was incredibly unprepared for the company of other children, but that didn’t mean James didn’t want to excel at friendship. So, boarding the Hogwarts Express with an air of wisdom beyond his years, he sought out some companions.

 

He didn’t have much luck. James had a propensity for using words such as ‘propensity’, which is no way to make friends when you’re eleven and about to start a new school year. So he had a carriage to himself and a thermos of ‘coffee’ to stew over, at least until another boy with straight black hair and a lopsided smile asked if he could share.

 

“Of course! It would give me much pleasure to have some company!” The excited James had said.

 

The other boy had sighed as he sat down, “Tell me you don’t talk like that all the time. Please. I can’t take talk like that early in the morning,” pulled out a thermos, it smelled suspiciously like real coffee, and took a long sip.

 

James, still eleven, had looked at this other boy in wonder and stuck out his hand, “Never! My name is James by the way.” His smile so wide that his glasses had been pushed up by his cheeks.

 

“Sirius. I don’t shake hands before noon.”

 

As anyone could tell, they were fast friends.

 

* * *

 

In the year that had flown by in a whirlwind of red and gold, four boys that shared the first year dorm became a close knit group of brothers. They had been twelve, and they felt on top of the world.

 

James, the leader, the one who held them all together like glue and kept them moving forward. The one who held them at night and tried to ease their bruises.

 

Peter, who was small and timid and so honestly happy to be included. He who was so eager to not be the weak one anymore, and he wasn’t; not with his friends by his side.

 

Sirus, who avoided the house that would have made him like the rest of his family, who tried to be everything that was never expected of him. He had tried defy everything that anyone had ever told him to be, but now he didn’t have to.

 

Remus, who looked sickly more than he looked healthy but was more than willing to show the other three how to raise hell.

 

The four of them, they had become the greatest force Hogwarts has ever seen.

 

But everything has to change, it always does.

 

* * *

 

Thirteen happened. Thirteen happened the same way it happened to everyone else and that was ‘to’ them. It was a chaotic change, full of entropy and energy, and there are always dangers when it comes to chemistry.

 

Remus grew teeth and fur every full moon, and The Marauders had just discovered this. Just. So the plans started, because the other three had decided that no one should have to face that kind of thing alone.

 

Sirius had begun to suffer the consequences of his infidelity to his family's moral code, spent the summer locked up in his room as penance for his loud mouth and louder actions. It was also the year Regulus Black got sorted into slytherin and things started getting dark. The year that Sirius noticed snogging and flirting with girls helped distract some of the pain.

 

Peter, little brittle Peter no more, had grown into something of a master of deception. He could sweet talk his teachers into believing any story he wanted, forge whatever signature anyone could possibly need. Somehow, he would wonder, his friends weren’t as pleased with his talents as he thought had they would be.

 

Third year was the year that James started to notice red. Red like hair and red like lips and rosey cheeks. Red like a tie around a neck and red like the blood in his heart and his chest. Same red, same heartbeat beating away behind his eyes. Except, this apple of his eye in shiney glorious red had wanted nothing to do with him.

 

Third year was the start of a chase and the end of the start.

 

(Cause everyone knows everything and all things begin and end.)

 

* * *

 

Fourth year was neither the start nor the end, it existed as a neither. An empty space where things lulled into a pleasant song and things continued as they had.

 

Sharp teeth, long claws and fur still ruled twelve nights a year, Peter still crawled and clawed for recognition and acceptance, Sirius was still running and running and snarling at everything that tried to make him stop, and James was still as stubborn as he had always been and was still as fixated on things as he always would be.

 

(He had every quill he had ever used stashed away in his trunk, the first leaf that hit his face every fall trapped in a book, and he had every card-every thoughtful note- saved in a box for reading when the days seemed to drag on for far too long.)

 

James had been determined, the incredible type of determined that only a tough teenage boy who was unused to the word impossible could be, and the entirety of his determination was focused on winning the affections of one Miss Lily Evans.

 

James liked a challenge, and she certainly was one.

 

Still, things had continued on.

 

* * *

 

Fifteen was a year like no other, because it was a year of shifting. The gears of adulthood were slowly sliding into place as childhood faded away, and it was also the year of O.W.L.S. and this had spelled danger and fear for many.

 

Remus still turned into a monster, but that had been the year he could bear the burden with friends. Peter, the rat, the lookout, the crafty one who knew which shadows were safe and which ones were deadly; Sirius, the dog, the guard, the loyal one who knew when to strike and when to duck, when to protect and when to run; James, who was regal and royal who could never be anything but a Stag with his crown of antlers, James to lead them to victory and home every night.

 

These four who prowled the school and the grounds and made it their own, who claimed every nook and cranny of the castle and called it theirs. A map, it show them their kingdom and the subjects inside, because it was only their right as Kings.

 

It was years ago that they had been named the Marauders, but it had been that year that they really took to the moniker. That year they became the trouble that haunted the halls long after they left.

 

They had been the dangerous quarter, their song had enticed and their image romanticized until they were more than boys, fifteen year old boys, no; that year they became legends. Girls wanted to date them, boys wanted to be them, teachers hated them because they were too much. They were so much more than boys, these wondrous Marauders who were swallowed by their muchness and turned into men, into stories, into myths.

 

Men who made so many mistakes, the mistakes of boys.

 

Stories that were only that. Stories.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about The Marauders, obviously, and how they change. This part of a series, and functions as an extended Prologue type thing. I think. I don't really know what you would call it but I certainly hope that this works out okay because I'm really happy with how this is progressing.
> 
> The title of the series is based on the first law of thermodynamics, but I promise very very little physics/chemistry for those with an extreme aversion. It wouldn't have much place in a fic like this anyway. 
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think??? Because I'm a writer and how we starve for peoples comments.


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